Study Break
by Stephane Richer
Summary: Himuro is mesmerized, still, by the way it seems to stretch on forever, the way the veins and bones stick out from the white bottom of his wrist.


Study Break

Disclaimer: Don't own.

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Doing homework together is relaxing. They both have similar study habits, sitting on the bed with backs to the wall, quiet. Occasionally, one will ask the other for help and it will usually be given. While school is not number one on either of their priority lists by any stretch of the imagination, they're both fairly smart and put forth enough effort to get good grades.

Liu furrows his brow the way he does when he's on the cusp of figuring it out. "This isn't a real formula, is it?"

"Nope," Himuro replies with a smile, barely looking up from his history textbook.

He's so gullible. Himuro probably shouldn't be taking advantage of it, but it's so easy and he's not a good enough guy to resist plucking the low-hanging fruit. As long as he mixes in truth often enough with his lies, Liu will keep giving him the benefit of the doubt.

"You've made me waste ten minutes," Liu grumbles. "Bastard."

Himuro shrugs. He could say he's doing this for Liu's own good, to try and teach him to be way less gullible (that indeed was Fukui's reasoning, although it's hard to tell whether that guy believes the shit that comes out of his mouth sometimes or not) but the truth is it's just because he can and he wants to. He likes the reactions he gets, likes timing how long it takes for Liu to get that the joke's on him, He likes that furrow in his brows, the way he chews on his pencil or stares into the distance because something's off and he can't tell quite what or why.

"And you're watching me again," says Liu, busily erasing his previous work. "Do your homework."

There's a redness to his cheeks, not a self-conscious blush or an embarrassed one. He more than kind of likes the attention (of course he does, says that one "let's stereotype people based on basketball position" part of Himuro's brain; he's a forward). He's happy even though he's been fooled again, happy that Himuro cared enough to think up a new way to fuck with him.

Himuro absorbs the British occupation of India, reads and rereads each paragraph to double-check, while sliding his hand over gradually until it rests on Liu's thigh. The pace of Liu's pencil on paper quickens, scratching becoming a blur that's almost one stroke becoming formulas and equations and calculations, occasionally giving way to the rapid fire of numbers in a calculator and then returning. Himuro's nearing the end of the chapter, but realizing that just makes it harder for him to concentrate. Finally, he shuts the textbook quietly, placing it on the bedside table.

Liu glares. "If you hadn't done that, I'd be done by now."

Himuro nods. Liu goes back to his physics problem, scribbles the steps and sighs because he knows how to work this through without writing down everything. For someone as precise as Himuro, that's not as much of an issue. And then he, too, is done, finishing with a flourish.

He stuffs the paper into his schoolbag, leaning (as usual) up against the leg of Himuro's bed, and then leans back up against the wall, stretching a lanky arm out. Himuro is mesmerized, still, by the way it seems to stretch on forever, the way the veins and bones stick out from the white bottom of his wrist. As Liu lowers his arm back down, Himuro catches it in his hand and places a kiss on the place where his wrist meets his palm, feels the muscles twitch against his mouth.

Liu chuckles at his enthusiasm and quickly flips his hand so that it cups Himuro's chin and brings Himuro's mouth up to his. The kiss is short; their bodies are contorted uncomfortably and they break to shift positions. Himuro moves into Liu's lap, legs stretched over the bed to the end. Liu spreads his legs a bit but remains leaning up against the wall. He starts to fuss with Himuro's shirt, press kisses to Himuro's neck while he un-tucks it and slides a few fingers up Himuro's spine in an uneven rhythm. Himuro leans into him, pressing his head into Liu's chest and breathing in his scent. One hand works at the lower buttons of Liu's shirt, finally getting a couple undone and sliding his hand inside. He taps Liu's ribs gently, and feels the sharp intake of breath and the way the expanse of flat stomach retracts from his touch and the tongue on his neck falter and the hand on his back flatten and press close.

Suddenly, his tie feels too tight and his pants feel too tight and he feels like his clothes are so _hot_, so useless. Liu kisses him again, deeper this time, pressing his tongue against Himuro's and pinning him down to the bed. Again, they're contorted and twisted but this time they right themselves easily enough. With one hand, Liu deftly undoes Himuro's tie and all the buttons on his shirt. Himuro half sits up, narrowly missing clunking their foreheads together, and shoves the shirt and tie off of himself and onto the end of the bed. He's barely gotten his hands all the way through when Liu's started on his pants, undoing the belt, button, and fly almost in one motion. He shoves them down roughly along with Himuro's underwear.

When his mouth touches Himuro's cock, Himuro hisses. His tongue is hot and wet and trails an agonizingly slow line down his cock to the tip and back up, and Himuro can't really breathe so much as shudder. He moans as Liu takes away his tongue and the creaking and from the gravity of the bed Himuro can tell he's sitting up (his eyes are closed, screwed and scrunched in an effort to maximize his sensory pleasure). He hears rustling and the pop of a button and the sound of a zipper. Himuro opens his eyes.

Liu is kneeling above him, sweaty and ruffled hair framing his thin face. His tie is loosened and his shirt is half-buttoned, exposing his stomach and one sharp hipbone. His pants are pulled down to his knees, exposing his toned thighs and hard, erect cock. Himuro sighs. He wants to drink this sight in, let it wash over him…but he's impatient right now and he doesn't want to just _look_, he wants to have. Liu leans back down, arching his back and placing a hand on Himuro's forehead. And slowly, he brushes Himuro's bangs away from his face, exposing both eyes. Himuro suddenly feels very, very exposed, feels completely naked (never mind the pants bunched around his ankles). No matter how often Liu does this, tracing the same line over his forehead each time and firmly holding back his bangs, Himuro almost wants to hide and shrink back.

Instead, he looks up and meets Liu's eyes, two gazing into two. There is nothing but their breathing for a few seconds. Then, Liu places the fingertips of his other hand on Himuro's dry lips. Himuro licks them and then takes them in his mouth, moistening them and licking all the way down to Liu's palm. They maintain eye contact, neither one blinking. Slowly, Liu withdraws his hand from Himuro's mouth and then brings it downwards.

He traces over the line he licked before, and then over Himuro's balls and the sensitive skin behind them (and Himuro is making the most undignified, strangled yowls right now) and finally his finger is at Himuro's hole. Liu does not hesitate and shoves a long finger in, flexing and moving it so that Himuro is writhing and moaning and his eyes are shut again, bangs long since released from Liu's grip. He adds a second finger, then a third; as Himuro tries to spread his legs even further, wrap them around Liu's body. Liu's satisfied with stretching out Himuro fairly quickly, and he wastes no time in taking out his fingers and plunging his cock deep into Himuro's ass.

Himuro whimpers. Liu comes halfway out and slams into him, and he's seeing stars. He rotates his hips, tries to make the motion stronger, harder, faster. Liu is moaning and groaning, and no sound could be sweeter right now. It feels so good, the pleasure building up and up and up and then he comes without warning. Liu needs a few more thrusts to finish, but seeing Himuro come and hearing him shout wordlessly helps him over the edge.

They're messy and breathing hard, pressed together on the bed that's small even for one person. Himuro pulls the cover over them, and Liu's already asleep, gently snoring as his lips curve into almost a smile. Himuro kisses him on the cheek. They'll worry about cleaning up and stuff later. Himuro hasn't noticed how tired he is until now, and all he can do is slip an arm around Liu's narrow waist and press him closer, bury his face in the crook of Liu's neck and close his eyes once more.


End file.
